


He Clipped My Wings

by CreepyLittleLullaby



Series: Langst (Voltron Legendary Defender) [8]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Cuban Lance (Voltron), Homesick Lance (Voltron), Hurt Lance (Voltron), Insecure Lance (Voltron), Kinda?, Lance (Voltron) Whump, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance (Voltron)-centric, Langst, M/M, Multi, Rebellion, Space Pirates, Suicidal Thoughts, Treason, Wingfic, Wingless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 07:10:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11686617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreepyLittleLullaby/pseuds/CreepyLittleLullaby
Summary: Lance just wanted to fly, be free from it all. He didn't want to stay in the same life forever, trapped in one section of a world that dictated every thought and move he could make. But, it seemed life has some other plan for him than just a peaceful life as a fighter pilot.Also on tumblr on the account 'iamtheyaoiqueen'





	He Clipped My Wings

            Lance never knew what to think of anything really. But he guessed that’s what happened in a Galran controlled world. The sky was green, the grass was blue, and the whole earth was turned upside down and inside out. Ever since he was born he’d never understood anything about the Galra or the government at all.

            But he did that he needed to fly. Not just with the wings on his back. But with a machine too. He needed to feel the purring off an engine underneath his feet. Needed to feel that control panel and those handles clenched in his hands. Needed to work with, fly with something much bigger than him. To feel free. Pilots were the only one who got to leave their homes to see the world. If not different parts of earth, then they got to see different worlds. And all of that was finally in reach when he got accepted into the Garrison.

            It was hard, the school, but so worth it. Especially now as he worked on a space ship. A space ship! Going back and forth between the different ports of the Galran empire. Though, it wasn’t a cargo ship. Nor was Lance technically a pilot. No, he was a soldier in the Galran guard force. It was like the navy. Except. In space. That was cool wasn’t it?

            Even if the thought at shooting at rebels and other people with families made him feel sick inside. Lance was free. As free as he could get. And Lance would cling to that opportunity with the last breath he could take into his lungs. Though, Lance had to admit. If he were transferred to another ship, he wouldn’t be, unhappy per say…

            His commander unnerved him.

            Lotor, he was the illegitimate son of their emperor Zarkon, but still a powerful man in the Galran force. And for some reason. Lance could always feel his eyes on him. Or more precisely his wings.

            Everyone had wings on earth, it was a born gift. Very few were born without them. And those born without were either coddled or rejected and abused depending on where you were born and what part of society you are from. Though Lance had wings. Very beautiful wings if Lance was allowed to brag. With dark as night blues mixed with teals and medium blues in unpredictable patterns. Lance was very proud of them, and loved to show them off when he was allowed. Usually, people looking at his wings made him puff up in pride.

            So why, in front of his superior. Did he feel the need to curl up and pull them tight against his back protectively? Why did he shudder in feel at the feeling of Lotor’s brushing hands against his feathers? Either way, Lance knew that Lotor was interested. In him or his wings. Lance had no clue.

            But hey, it wasn’t like Lotor could stare at his wings without Lance. They were a package deal, so Lance felt a little lucky. He had a stable job. Even if he was a little creeped out and a whole lot scared. He would be fine.

            Until it wasn’t.

            Rebels were attacking the ship and everyone was in panic. It was Shiro’s crew. An ex-soldier of the Galra. Also known as the Champion. Mixed with a crew of even more formidable people. No one stood a chance against the rebel force known as Voltron. Not without at least a few ships. But Lance’s vessel was only one ship. Lance would later wonder if this was a blessing or a curse. Since after that first attack, he was alive and well. None of the crew he’d accidently come across in his scrambling around the ship attacked him. Only giving him looks of surprise or appreciation as he would duck out of their way and stick to the wall. Hoping to appear as small as possible. Not even daring to try and grab his gun. No matter how good a shot he was with it.

            His compliance and submission is probably what saved his life. But the distraction those brave rebels had caused. Had also ruined him as his commander finally found him in the fray. Smiling at him and grabbing him into a room. Promising safety and sanction. Lance thought he should feel safe as the commander comforted him, held him under a wing for protection. But Lance could help but feel as if something were wrong. Something were off about the smile that was meant to be comforting. But Lance didn’t know what it was. Until it was too late and his intentions came with startling clarity.

            “It’s a shame what Voltron did to you, isn’t it gorgeous?” Lance crooked an eyebrow at the man. Going to voice his confusion. Lotor had rescued him from Voltron (Not that he’d been hurt by them in the first place) But hands on his wings silenced him. The grip on the joints of his back froze him as they tightened harshly. Causing some discomfort as Lance tried to squirm away.

            “This will only hurt for a little bit~” But that was a lie. Lance felt everything. The way his wings flailed as the joints popped out of socket. The ripping of his flesh and feathers falling down to the ground as force ripped them out. Blood cascading down his back in waterfalls as Lance shrieked in agony. Feeling every bit of pain until he passed out, only staying conscious until the last tissue of his wings tore from his back, and the emptiness of the missing limbs rushed in with the pain and agony.

            What had he done?

            Lotor was a lie. It didn’t hurt for only a little bit. It hurt constantly. Like an ache in Lance’s heart. Not even the few feathers that Lance kept and managed to make into small accessories and trinkets in an effort to keep his wings close fought away the empty ache in his soul. Lotor had also lied and told them it was Voltron’s doing. That Lance was disabled through Voltron. Now, even though it was Lotor’s fault. It wasn’t birth or his own. He was labeled a wingless. Scum of the Galran empire. It was only through Lotor’s enjoyment of his suffering that Lance stayed on the ship as a janitor sort of thing. Facing the pain of harassment and homesickness alone.

            The sight of Lotor’s smile and the gruesome flashing of bloodied blue feathers peeking from Lotor’s closet when Lance was forced to clean his room only made the pain in his back and his soul worse. Lance wanted his mom’s hugs. But even more than that, Lance wanted to die.

            Maybe in heaven his wings could be returned to him.

            The second attack was his perfect opportunity. Though, Lance had to admit, he was shocked. Voltron had never been known to attack the same ship twice. And on the same route. Not to mention that they’d come just as Lance was contemplating how to be done with this awful existence.

            If the first attack took his wings, who would blink if the second attack took his life? Whether he died in battle, or killed himself. Both could be blamed with either PTSD of seeing Voltron again. Or him not surviving ‘another cruel encounter’ with the rebel force. Not like they knew who was the real culprit. And Lance no longer cared about justice.

            Lance just wanted the pain to stop.

            The first sighting Lance saw of Voltron, he could see the surprise in their eyes. It was the white-haired man. The Champion. Lance bit his lip. It was a traitorous thought, and if Lance even breathed it the Galra would have his head. But he knew, Shiro wasn’t a bad man. Shiro was trying to fight for what he saw as right. Lance had never seen him kill an innocent man or civilian in all of the video footage or stories of the strong man. Lance could understand his surprise.

            Most of his original crew had perished in the first attack, usually that would mean a rank up for the soldier who’s survived. And here was a fighter pilot, now in just plain clothing. Bandages covering the tan abused skin the crop top did not cover. Lance paused.

            Shiro would not kill him, so he was pretty useless in Lance’s idea. Huh… but, helping the enemy would shame his reputation… but it would also get him executed for treason. He would be rebelling against the man who took his wings. And he’d get to die and end the pain of a life without them.

            That sounded like a win to Lance.

            Lance smiled at Shiro, getting a small smile back as Lance walked backwards. Confusing Shiro, until the man seemed to get the silent message. ‘Follow me’ Lance’s body movements tried to goad Shiro. The rebel looked wary, Lance could understand that. Lance smiled reassuringly. Arms spreading to show he was unarmed as Shiro finally did follow Lance into his room.

            It was a little ratty. A little moldy. But away from the other rooms. Private. No one would hear them here. Lance smiled at Shiro as he started the questioning.

            “Why have you guided me here?” Lance bowed his head a little.

            “I want to help you if you’d like.” Shiro furrowed a brow. Suspicion rising in his features. He could usually tell a hidden rebel from the rest. But the tan boy in front of him was unreadable. Something about the boy was off. Unsettling. But nothing that scared Shiro. Rather it was something that made him curious. Made him want to lean a little closer. Figure out exactly what was causing the strange manner of the boy in front of him.

            “Why would you do that?” Lance gave a smooth smile.

            “It’s not quite getting even, but rather getting back at someone that’s wronged me here.” The boy gave a heartbreaking smile, his eyes weren’t on Shiro, rather looking at a homemade jewelry stand with different trinkets and accessories. They looked homemade, Shiro guessed they were important as the boy almost looked ready to either cry or kill someone.

“My commander. The bastard took something from me that nothing can or ever will replace. Nothing I could do to them would ever be enough for what they did to me. But I don’t mind. I just want a little justice. Rebelling a little bit against them will give me at least a little satisfaction, and probably will get me something I want.” Shiro’s eyes flashed in interest.

            “What do you mean?” Lance gave a smirk.

            “Simple. I want a little revenge, and this is my best way of getting it. The consequences if I’m found out… eh. I’m not afraid of it anymore I guess. The look on his face after your attack will be enough for me. I’ll die a happy, happy man.” Shiro seemed a little disturbed, but gave a grimacing smile at the boy. The boy had been downgraded from a fighter to an underling. Shiro could see the forming of a bruise on his jaw and the stiff way he held himself. Red leaking through the bandaging on his limbs. He was ready for death. But he wanted to go out doing something against the people that were killing him.

            Shiro could understand his motives. Shiro knew what it felt like, wanted the same thing too. But Shiro wasn’t going to let that happen. Not that the tan boy would know that just yet, for now. Shiro was going to give him the satisfaction of rebelling against his tormentors without any confusion or strings attached.

            “I thank you for your help then, Do you know where the cargo hold is?” Shiro watched the tan boy light up with a large grin. Making Shiro smile himself as Lance mischievously jingled keys around his neck.

            “Bottom deck, what are we waiting for handsome?” Lance glided his way out of the room. Shiro following behind closely. Gun held at the ready to defend the boy against anyone they might come across. Though Shiro wasn’t surprised when Lance himself grabbed a gun from a fallen soldier, reloading it and cocking the hammer to make it ready to go almost instinctually. Blue eyes focused. He was a fighter. War torn and broken. But a fighter. The light of joy and fulfillment in the tan boy’s eyes as Shiro tossed the supplies out the airlock for his colleagues made him smile too. Almost as much as the sheer surprise on the boy’s face when Shiro grabbed his unbandaged hand and dragged him along as he ran to the extraction point instead of leaving Lance behind red-handed like Lance had suspected.

            Though Shiro was thankful that Lance didn’t fight him, true, it would be easy to lift the skinny boy and run with him if he tried to struggle. It would feel a lot less like the tan boy consensually rebelling with Shiro if he did though. Shiro was tempted to just grab the boy however as they ran, the boy’s cheeks were turning red and Shiro could tell his injuries were grinding on his by the stutters in his steps and how his free arm pressed against his ribs.  There was a shine of determination in those eyes however, and Shiro let the man run alongside him.

            That’s were things got a little hairy. Everyone was filed into Shiro’s lion for escape, except for Keith who was fighting to keep the bay clear for Shiro’s arrival. But Shiro hadn’t excepted it to take so long to empty the cargo hold, he had barely even expected to find it until the Hispanic boy had offered him help and a key. But even then time was growing short. Shiro was at the opening and Keith was pressing in behind. Until he was being dragged away, kicking and screaming. Shiro screamed, holding tightly onto Lance as if to insure no one else exposed would be taken. However, Lance was quiet. Raising his left arm with the gun cocked in his hand.

            Shiro’s breath caught in his throat. No. The boy wasn’t going to betray them, right? Keith was too far away for a shot to be accurate. Shiro could barely even see the Galran restraining him. Using Keith as a shield. But Shiro was shocked as the boy’s gun fired. The shot sailing safely over Keith’s head and hitting the Galran right between the eyes at what should have been an impossible distance. Keith scrambling away and shoving Shiro with the boy into the lion and taking off. The boy grinned at him, the smile obviously pained as Shiro pulled the boy tighter against his chest. Lance’s tender back pressed against Shiro’s hard chest plate.

            “They called me sharpshooter for a reason.” The Hispanic boy gave a painful laugh, “Though, I admit. I took a gamble without my rifle. Pistols were never my thing.” Shiro gave a reassuring a smile.

            “You saved Keith back there, with a great shot. I think you’re just fine with a pistol…?” The tan boy gave a smirk at the silent question.

            “Lance. My name is Lance. Nice to meet you Shiro.” Shiro gave a smile and pulled Lance to a seat in the Lion. Avoiding Allura and Keith who were conversing and sending curious glances toward the tan boy Shiro was silently fussing over every now and again while the Black Lion flew back to the castle. Shiro caught Keith’s eye as the dark-haired man seemed to shift impatiently. Eyes on the tan boy the entire time. Shiro smiled and waved him over as he sat next to Lance.

            “Well Lance, I want you to meet some of our team.” Keith approached and Lance couldn’t help but suppress a shudder at the sight of those violet eyes staring into him. Everything about Keith screamed dominance, the way his wings stayed lifted and strong, perched on his back. How his eyes glared at Lance, not unkindly, but something in Lance knew that Keith would have no problem breaking him if he had to. The look in his eyes made Lance’s back scream at its familiarity, but Lance stayed calm. Shiro was right there next to him, smiling gently and coaxingly. Shiro trusted the man he introduced as Keith, so that meant Lance could to. Lance smiled at Keith as Shiro wrapped a grey and white wing around Lance as a reassurance. Lance held out a hand.

            “I’m Lance, and you are?” Keith’s eyes finally softened, a small smirk lighting up on his lips as Keith took the tan boy’s hand respectfully with a careful grip at the sight of bloodied bandages of the other. Lance felt a wave of relief and calm. Lotor’s eyes never became gentle. Lotor was never careful with the injured of their crew.

            “Keith, I want to thank you for helping us out. Me out.” Lance gave a cocky grin, Keith had to resist the urge to roll his eyes with his own smile. He could feel a snarky comment just bubbling under the tan boy’s skin.

            “Not a problem Mullet man.” Keith gaped and Shiro gave a loud laugh at the comment, grinning at the tan boy. Anyone who could call out Keith’s mullet was good in his book. Lance gave another grin and Keith gave a sigh, dropping down to the other side of Lance. Hands pressed to his temples.

            “I’m guessing I’ll be get ‘the eighties called me for you joke now?” Lance gave a smirk.

            “Why would they be calling me for your bad haircut? They’ll be calling you man, keep me, the middle man, out of your strange eighties love affair.” Allura gave a coughing laugh in the front of the lion as she phoned the castle to inform Coran of their success. Lance grinned at the laugh, lighting up under the attention causing Keith and Shiro to give joint smiles. Both their wings rewrapping around the injured boy tightly. Though Keith grimaced as the boy’s boney structure bumped against him.

            First thing they were doing when they got back to the castle was sticking this boy in the med bay to get rebandaged. Then Keith was kidnapping him to grab some food for the drastically underweight and lanky boy. After that, maybe force Lance to take a nap, seeing the dark bags underneath his eyes. Though, from the looks of it Lance would definitely need some painkillers. And Keith knew from experience that Coran’s painkillers were amazing for helping injuries heal, but they also knocked you the hell out. A nap/good night’s sleep would be mandatory. Though, by the way Lance was slowly, leaning more and more of his light weight against their wings, and by the tilt of his head, he was already dozing off. Shiro gave a small tilting smile before he gently moved the boy to lay down. Quietly chuffing as Keith claimed Lance’s upper body to lay on his lap, carefully avoiding how Lance would jolt at certain touches on his torso until he relax. Letting Shiro and Keith hold him steady on the ride back to the castle as he tumbled into unconsciousness. Keith smirked at Shiro who was watching Lance carefully, the rise and fall of the tan boy’s chest.

            “Your need to take care of anything with a pulse is showing again babe.” Shiro grumbled, shifting so he could trace the red tinted wraps that showed from beneath Lance’s jeans.

            “Like you aren’t looking either.” Keith shrugged, not denying anything as he gave a smug smile. Cradling Lance’s upper body and head in his arms. Supporting the tan boy and keeping him still during the slightly bumpy flight.

            “I never denied anything.” Keith’s hand traced the boys chest gently, playing with a beautiful blue feather piece in the tan boys hair. The feather was beautiful, like that of a Caribbean ocean. It was probably one of Lance’s own feathers. His wings must be so pretty… Keith enjoyed the soft texture of the clean hair and feathers. Until his eyes narrowed. As if he were contemplating something, until he froze. Wings going stiff.

“Shiro, Shiro, turn him over, turn him over! We’re laying him on his wings!” Shiro jolted at the realization, the bandages were covering his back, Shiro hadn’t even thought of it. Holy shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. His wings were probably already injured. At this rate they were fucking up so bad they might have to put the boy into a healing pod. Shiro hastily lift the boy, gently moving the boy to lay on his stomach. Which caused an uncomfortable moan from the boy, Shiro winced when his hand sunk into the boy’s ribs. They stuck up. But there was a gap in the middle that gave way. Broken ribs. Shiro cursed, he knew the boy was bloodied up, but he’d walking and functioning fine. This was worse than he’d thought.

“Allura! Check Lance! Black! Turn off autopilot! We need to get to the castle stat! Keith, keep him steady. Smack him if he gets worse, he can’t be asleep with a low heart and breathing rate.” Shiro scrambled letting Allura take his place next to Lance as Shiro grabbed the pilot’s seat, grabbing the controls and urging Black to go faster. Allura took control of caring for Lance, which gave Shiro relief. Even if her and Keith were bickering again.

“I said hold him steady!”

“I’m trying to make sure he’s still breathing!”

“AND I’M TRYING TO GET OFF THESE BANDAGES TO CHECK THE DAMAGE!”

“AND STRIPPING HIM IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN HIM BREATHING??? What is that! Necrophilia?!”

“Keith just shut the quiznak up!” A low groan made the fight instantly lose fire as the two began to focus again. Keith was cursing, make Shiro guess he’d accidently hit a sore spot on Lance. He heard more hushed arguments, the ripping of bandages, and a gasp. Making Shiro curious and anxious. His heart hammering against his chest. The tan boy had to be okay. He had to be. No one that courageous and with that light in his eyes could be taken away.

“Shit! Shiro! Go as fast as you can!”

“I’ve never seen anything like this, what is this? Who? Why? How? Oh god, the wounds are old, how are they still bleeding?” Shiro was starting to feel fear and concern settling into the pit of his stomach, making it sink as he heard the frantic hushed whispers.

“Keith! Allura! What’s wrong?” Shiro peeked back, seeing Keith look over to him, his arms and hands were covered in blood, fresh and dried as he held the dirtied bandages. Horror and shock written on his face.

“His wings were ripped off.” Shiro choked, breathing catching in his throat. How? Why? When did that happen? He had been a fighter pilot! You can’t be wingless and a fighter pilot! But, Lance had been a custodian. Downgraded. Shiro’s fingers twitched when he thought over his first conversation with Lance.

_The boy gave a heartbreaking smile, his eyes weren’t on Shiro, rather looking at a homemade jewelry stand with different trinkets and accessories. They looked homemade, Shiro guessed they were important as the boy almost looked ready to either cry or kill someone._

_“My commander. The bastard took something from me that nothing can or ever will replace. Nothing I could do to them would ever be enough for what they did to me. But I don’t mind. I just want a little justice.”_

Justice against a commander and something that couldn’t be replaced. Little feather themed jewelry, all the feathers the same color and pattern. Shiro felt a murderous rage build up like an angry vice inside of him.

His commander had ripped off his wings.

He was abused and trapped by a higher up that had taken everything away from him, that’s why he wasn’t afraid to rebel or to die for treason. He’d already lost everything. Wingless were treated like scum if they weren’t from rich families. Losing your wings mid-life was also mythed to be a damnation. Most who lost them were never the same. Most without proper supervision and care died within two months. Suicide or other health reasons. The body killing itself with grief or strain.

Lance had nothing left in his eyes. His rebellion to helping them. That was how he was going to die. Shiro gritted his teeth and urged Black to go even faster. The Black lion listened going fast, until something made the lion freeze for just a moment, until Black was speeding through the void at break neck speed. Faster than Shiro had ever seen before. It made Shiro even more wary.

“Black? Black! What’s wrong? Is someone chasing us?” Black gave one purr of reassurance, assuring Shiro that their was no outside force driving her to go faster. Rather it was her lioness pride forcing her along. One of the lions was in distress. Shiro tried to ask which one, immediately fearing the worse for one of his team members, until Black shut him out. Telling him she was going to help. To focus on helping the cub in his care.

Shiro nodded, eyes narrowing as he refocused. Black was right. Lance was the focus here. They needed to get him into a healing pod. And stat. Though, the amount that the healing pod could help with such extensive injuries was questionable at best. Shiro knew the best thing, even if the healing pod would not work fully, was to be there for Lance.

He didn’t want the boy to suffer any more than he already had.

They were close to the castle when Shiro and Keith switched under Allura’s instruction. Shiro could carry Lance much easier than Keith due to the size differences between the boys, meanwhile Keith would get Black into the hangar. Though, what happened once they were in the hangar came as a surprise to them. Well, not really what happened, but who greeted them there.

It was the Blue lion in her organic form. Frantically pacing and agitated while the other lions could do nothing to soothe her. It surprised Shiro, as the Blue lion had no pilot to watch over, rather she was alone until they found her match. And usually she was quite calm, lazing around and trying to be helpful to the other paladins. Now however, it was like she was a different feline. Shiro shook off the confusion, letting Allura deal with the distressed lion while he focused getting Lance to the med bay. Though it seemed Blue wasn’t having being ignored as she followed Shiro close behind. Almost beating Keith in her haste to stay at Shiro’s side. Keith tried to communicate with her as they rushed past the different halls.

“Blue, you’re acting like a madman, calm down! What’s wrong with you?” The Blue lion only gave a lion whine and a growl. Nipping harmlessly, but warningly, at Keith’s fingers when he tried to grab her and hold her back. The message was clear.

‘I’m doing what I want and you just have to get out of my way.’ Keith frowned but chose to ignore the stubborn lion as they burst into the med bay, Coran was already rushing around to check Lance and put him into the pod. It all happened so quick that all Shiro could do was stare at the amount of blood on his armor and the strange thought that he knew which lion Black was concerned about as Black ran up in her organic form. Trying to comfort the distraught Blue lion as Allura followed close behind. Staring puzzled at the Blue lion, until she tried to step forward toward Lance’s pod and Blue retaliated with a long and low growl. Surprise turning to understanding as the Black lion didn’t reprimand Blue for her outburst. Allura looked at the pod with surprise.

“I know why the lions were insisting we go to that ship more than once.” Allura blinked, as if studying Lance more closely than before. “We’ve found Blue’s paladin.” Shiro turned to look at Lance in awe. He was Blue’s paladin? Shiro bit his lip. That would explain a few things. Why they never found him on earth. Why the lions were hellbent on attacking that ship. More so after their first raid. Why Blue was so agitated and angry. She knew her paladin was suffering, and hadn’t been able to reach out to him to help him. She’d probably felt the moment his wings had been ripped off. Shiro could sympathize. She was probably furious and extremely protective of her paladin. Not wanting anymore harm to come to him.

Shiro could agree.

Maybe the Blue lion and him could work out their differences to pull off a homicide. Keith would probably be joining on how hard his boyfriend was clenching his fist. Anger and fire flickering in his eyes dangerous. Shiro could also understand. Lance had just helped Shiro and saved Keith’s ass. Shiro grimaced as he realized something.

“Coran, how much will the healing pod help the…” Coran frowned, shaking his head.

“It will close the wound and get rid of the nerve endings. Lance won’t feel the pain anymore, but his wings can’t be repaired. If we had them, and the wound was fresh maybe they could have healed back together, but its too late. Lance’s body has already closed off the joints. There’s nothing to be done.” Shiro couldn’t help the small whimper that escaped his lips at the thought. He couldn’t imagine even a minute without his wings, they were how he expressed emotion, bring comfort, fly. They were his freedom in this enslaved universe. And Lance’s were ripped from him at such a young age.

He would never fly again. Shiro shook his head. He couldn’t think like that, Lance is the one in need here. Shiro had to stay strong for him. Finding out he was a paladin of Voltron was going to be a shock and something hard to swallow. But Lance would make it through, they’d support him through it.

He would survive. 


End file.
